The Kit Wonders
This is the second episode of Barbarian Clans by Gingerear. This episode is dedicated to Rainy , for all of her awesome fanfics, and for taking the time to read my stories. Thank you! The entire series is rated Worse and for good reasons. You have been warned. Darkkit clambered out of OakClan’s communal den to watch the sunrise paint the sky. The jet-black she-kit had woken up first this morning, and she was glad of it. She needed time to collect her thoughts. A quarter-moon had passed since Leafsong’s murder, and Darkkit and Ivykit would travel with their Clan for the first time. Tawnystar had announced that the previous day that they would go to another den in another part of the territory. The Clan leader wanted to move because ticks and fleas began to attempt to infest the cats, and Leafsong’s body had started to stink, and the rotting stench drew foxes over. Darkkit shut her bright amber eyes and shuddered. She had seen a fox just a couple days earlier. The lean orange canine had attempted to attack Ivykit and Darkkit. Bluescar managed to save them, but he received a long gash in his flank in the process. “Another scar for me,” he had muttered, licking the red stripe while the fox bolted in to the bushes. As though thinking of Bluescar had summoned him, Darkkit heard Bluescar meow, “Hello,” behind her. The jet-black she-cat jumped and spun around, long fur bristling, back arched. “It’s only me,” Bluescar pointed out. “I know,” Darkkit mewed as her body loosened up. “You just startled me, that’s all.” Bluescar sat down and looked up at the sky with his one good eye, his amber eye. The vision in his right eye had been scratched out in a vicious fight, leaving a useless blue-green orb in Bluescar’s head. His ears had turned to shreds of skin and fur in that fight as well, and scars streaked his forehead, left front paw, and belly. The large blue-gray tom had been quite handsome before that fateful battle, or so Stormfrost had told Darkkit. But now most of OakClan tried to stay away from him, since he was now very ugly and repulsive. Darkkit enjoyed his company quite a bit, in contrast, because he was kind, funny, and he also had realized that OakClan had a problem. “Pretty sunrise, isn’t it?” Darkkit commented as she looked up at the gold and pink sky above the bright green treetops. “Indeed it is,” Bluescar agreed. He turned his gaze to Darkkit. “What are you doing up so early?” “I couldn’t sleep,” Darkkit explained as she continued to watch the day’s beginning. “Excited about your first hunt?” Bluescar prompted. “Nervous,” Darkkit corrected. Her dark fur fluffed up involuntarily. “Ah,” Bluescar understood out loud. “Worried about foxes and badgers and hawks and snakes and whatnot?” Darkkit shook her black head. “I’m worried about what my Clan will do.” “Oh.” Bluescar did not speak again for a moment. Then he said, “I wouldn’t worry about it. Unless we meet a rover or an exiled cat or some other Clan, our warriors won’t do anything to any cat. As far as I know, Tawnystar is contented with the land we have now.” Darkkit’s eyes slowly turned to him, and then slowly turned away. “I don’t have your confidence,” she mewed. “Understandably,” Bluescar responded. The two of them sat silently for a short while, watching the gold-and-pink sky fade into a bright blue, splotched white by the fluffy clouds. “What’s a rover?” Darkkit suddenly queried, interrupting the peaceful scene. “Nobody’s explained that to me yet.” Bluescar shifted uncomfortably. “A rover is a tom that wanders around and flirts with she-cats from other Clans,” he explained. “Oftentimes they’ll sire kits, and a Clan leader will kick out she-cats who do get pregnant.” “Why?” Darkkit asked. “Couldn’t they just raise their kits together?” “They could,” Bluescar went on, “but it would be a lot harder to feed them all, and the Clan leaders don’t want competition. And there has been more than one case, believe it or not, in which a weaker leader will give birth to kits, and a pregnant warrior who has not given birth kills those kits so her kits will survive.” Darkkit slowly turned her head to him, her eyes stretched wide. “There are cats who will murder kits?” she squeaked. “Oh yes,” Bluescar confirmed. “In fact, cats will kill other Clans’ kits to protect their Clan’s kits from competition. Tawnystar led a raid like that on FernClan a couple days after you were born.” Darkkit nearly fainted. “D-did they succeed?” Darkkit whimpered, her voice trembling. “Yes,” Bluescar answered somberly. “That’s probably why they agreed to take in Leafsong’s kit – because they have none of their own at the moment.” The moon-old she-kit stared at her older brother in horror. “D-did you –“ “No,” Bluescar reassured his youngest sister. “I offered to babysit you and your sister that day. Everyone else wanted to go, and Tawnystar knew I would not help in a raid like that.” Darkkit was quiet for a moment as her mind processed this horrific knowledge. “Are any of the other Clans better than OakClan?” she whispered. “Why are you even asking?” Tawnystar snarled behind her two children. Darkkit fainted. The orange-patched tabby slowly slipped out of the den. “Weakling,” she spat at her youngest kit. Then she snapped her dark tabby head to her eldest son. “You’re not filling her head with those ridiculous ideas of yours, are you?” “She’s come up with those ideas on our own, and we just happened to be discussing them,” Bluescar told his mother. “What else do you expect her to do when you murder her older sister right in front of her?” Tawnystar lashed out with one white paw, scratching Bluescar’s muzzle. “Don’t you dare challenge me,” she hissed. Her dark brown tabby tail flicked back and forth, brushing Darkkit’s fur. That tickling was the reason Darkkit woke up. She lifted her head and saw her mother snarling at Bluescar, and Bluescar’s blood dripping from his muzzle. “Leave him alone!” Darkkit screeched. She lunged for her mother’s hind leg and bit down, hard. Tawnystar yowled in pain and kicked her hind legs to throw off her attacker. The young black she-kit flew through the air and slammed into a tree trunk. Then she fell back into senseless darkness. When Darkkit did wake up, she thought she was still falling, because she could feel air ruffling through her fur. The black kit screamed at the top her lungs. Then she felt herself being placed on the ground, and she saw green grass. “Relax,” Bluescar meowed. Darkkit looked up and saw her brother’s familiar blue-gray face, and the new red mark on his muzzle. “Another scar for me,” he joked. “Are you okay?” “I think so,” Darkkit whimpered, suddenly becoming aware of how much her body ached from many bumps and bruises. “Good,” the tom sighed in relief. “I was worried you broke your back or something.” Darkkit barely heard him. She was busy examining her new surroundings. The Clan was no longer by the den – she saw them flitting through the undergrowth, busy with hunting. Her father perched on a particularly thick pine branch, scanning the area to make sure no one was hunting them. The sun’s rays poured down from the top of the sky: it was midday. “You were knocked out for quite a while,” Bluescar commented. “I can tell,” Darkkit mewed. “Have you been carrying me this whole time?” “Yes,” Bluescar confirmed. “No one else wanted to bother with you. They all think you’re crazy you know, and they’re right. What were you thinking, attacking a Clan leader like that?” “I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Darkkit mumbled. Bluescar sighed. “You’re young,” he murmured. “Are you hungry?” As if it was on cue, Darkkit’s stomach roared. “Yeah,” Darkkit added. The siblings laughed. Then Bluescar said, “Wait here.” Darkkit followed his commands as she watched him slink into the undergrowth. A few moments later, he came back with a fat, juicy light gray mouse in his jaws. He dropped the prey in front his little sister. “Eat up,” he meowed. Darkkit lurched forward to take a bite, but then the kit stopped. “Is something wrong with it?” Bluescar wondered, concerned. “Or are you just hesitating because you’ve never eaten solid food before?” Instead of answering either of his questions, Darkkit asked one of her own. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?” “No,” Bluescar admitted. “I was too busy carrying you.” “Well then, you should eat it,” the black she-kit mewed. “You must be hungry.” “You need it more,” Bluescar argued. “You could just take a bite out of it,” Darkkit attempted to compromise. “You take a bite out of it first,” Bluescar snapped. “I want you to eat.” Darkkit decided that this compromise was good enough, so she leaned down and took a big bite out of the rodent. “This is delicious,” she mumbled as she chewed. “Glad you like it,” Bluescar meowed just before he took a huge bit out of the gray mouse. “Wow. This is a juicy one,” he mumbled. Then the little black she-kit noticed something. A little pink blob in the remains of the mouse that didn’t just seem to be flesh. Darkkit pulled it out. “Bluescar, what is this?” she mewed. The large, lean blue-gray tom looked down at the pink mass. Then he rolled the mouse over. There were several more pink blobs. “This mouse was pregnant,” Bluescar stated. Darkkit stared down at the partly-devoured carcass. So that’s why the mouse was so fat, she realized. Her bright amber eyes kept staring at the mouse, and she didn’t know what to make of the situation. “Well, more food for you,” Bluescar meowed as he pushed the mouse towards Darkkit. The black she-cat looked up at her brother and stared at him, hoping that he was joking. His expression told her he was serious. “Great StarClan, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD!” Darkkit screamed as she ran blindly into the undergrowth.